CHAPTER 118: No Rest For The Wicked (Part 5)

Grimmauld Place

May 15th, 1996

9:30 a.m.

Harry had been silent since the moment he stepped into the room. Even when he arrived at Grimmauld, he offered nothing more than a polite greeting and short answers to the small talk Albus offered. His phoenix was there as well. From what he'd heard of his appearances in the past few days, the two were inseparable nowadays. It was all perfectly natural, Albus supposed, bonds between phoenixes and Children of Fate were rather special, a connection that could not be replicated with anyone or anything else. He knew that now, cherished Fawkes in a way he had never thought possible, especially in those early days when the sight of his phoenix made him want to retch his latest meal. Then again, everyone's experience with Fate was different, and however Harry courted Fate's favour, Albus didn't think it was as toilsome as his own.

Since most of the Order had left and none of the few remaining were currently at Grimmauld, they had taken over the kitchen. Albus had taken a seat at the head of the table beside Aberforth, hoping Harry would take the other seat at his side. Instead, he went all the way to the other end of the table, marking a cold distance between them, despite how much more amicable he was being compared to the last time they were both here. It didn't help that Aberforth still wore that look of distaste on his face. He was staring anywhere but at them, almost counting the seconds until the meeting was over. Harry didn't seem bothered by it, though. It was almost as if he knew that anger wasn't aimed at him.

Seeing the state of the situation, Albus thought it was best to start with his olive branch. "Harry, I wanted to talk to you about your summer accommodations."

"What of it, sir?" Harry asked as he stopped petting the phoenix and let it fly off of him.

"My relationship with Augusta has grown tenuous, I'm afraid. She recently just left the Order. Fortunately, there's still Grimmauld. I'll be staying here for the foreseeable future, and Aberfo-"

"Augusta is still my guardian."

Albus faltered slightly. "You are correct, Augusta is still your guardian."

"Then, that's where I'll be staying," Harry said simply.

"And do you think Augusta will allow this? She's not exactly fond of you."

"She's my guardian, sir, she doesn't need to be fond of me."

Albus sighed and leaned forward. "Yes, but she is also a prideful woman. She may take offence to this, and I won't be able to guarantee your safety inside Blackstone."

Harry gave him a polite smile. "The last time you tried to guarantee my safety, I ended up locked up downstairs with my wand snapped, sir. I think I'll try my luck this time."

Albus tensed, feeling as if he had just been slapped in the face. He looked at Aberforth and found no sympathy staring back at him. He had hoped that offering Harry a home for the summer would be a good place to start to building a relationship with him, but it seemed that everything he tried only served to put him in odds with him.

"The boy has made his choice, Albus," Aberforth spoke up. "He's earnt the right."

Albus nodded. "Of course. Still, I'm hoping you'd be willing to come around Grimmauld a few times a week over the summer."

Harry laughed, shaking his head, and something flashed in his eyes that Albus didn't quite like. . "I thought Longbottom was your favourite horse."

"It's not like that."

"Because now you know you were wrong?"

"Because this goes beyond your petty pride," Aberforth barked. "Voldemort will only keep getting stronger, and if you don't get on board, then he won't be stopped."

"That's assuming I can only stop him with your help."

"Yes," Albus conceded. "But it would make things harder for you, and everyone else involved, if you go at it alone. There are things you don't know, things we could teach you. I know we haven't had the best relationship so far, and I am truly sorry about that, Harry, truly. But unless we start anew, we could lose everything."

Harry gritted his teeth slightly, Albus could tell he wanted to say something but was holding back. "I'll think about it."

Despite this, Harry was just as distant throughout the rest of the morning as he talked about everything that happened to him during the night of the sieges. For the most part, he confirmed what Albus had already gathered from the general witness statements from London and what Neville and the Weasleys told him of their experiences in the Department of Mysteries. Hogwarts was another matter, and what Harry was the most secretive about. He couldn't get much out of him beyond a general sequence of events with many gaping holes of time in them. And despite Harry corroborating the story the other Slytherins told about Elijah also being kidnapped by the Death Eaters, Albus wasn't sure he fully believed it.

It wasn't until after he left that Albus turned his wand on Gellert and removed the myriad of disillusionment and notice-me-not charms he had placed all over him. Aberforth scoffed beside him but didn't say anything as Gellert joined them at the table.

"How did you see him" Albus asked.

"Powerful. I could feel it rolling off of him in waves. Smart, or at least trying to play smart."

"How so?" Aberforth asked.

"I didn't feel he needed much convincing on coming on board, especially if you say he and Scrimgeour already made a deal. He just didn't want to immediately agree and look weak."

"That doesn't explain why he'd want to go back to Augusta," Albus sighed. "He must know how he'll be received."

"I think he does know," Gellert said. "I think he's counting on it."

"The boy can take care of himself," Aberforth spoke up. "And if he can't, he has that phoenix to sap him away whenever he needs."

"He's calmer than what you described him to me," Gellert continued. "But you saw it too, didn't you? When he mentioned the Longbottom boy. The rage. The fire. That anger you so feared… it's still there."

"Well, of course, it is," Aberforth snapped. "We knew from the start he could have been the subject of the prophecy, but after that Halloween, we tossed him aside, and abandoned him, only for Snape to pry his claws into him when we should have continued keeping an eye on him."

"Do you think it will be any cause for concern?" Albus asked.

"No," Gellert shook his head. "If he was, he wouldn't have helped all those people during the sieges. Whatever damage he may have, he still has a code, of sorts. And even if he didn't, that prophecy makes him a marked man. Voldemort will come after him personally, and it won't just end with him. It's in his best interest to see the prophecy fulfilled."

"Agreed," Aberforth grunted.

Slowly, Albus pulled the Elder Wand from within his robes. He stroked it, the wood almost crackling with magic under his fingers, before he placed it on the table in front of them. "Tom has the resurrection stone. He knows what it is, knows its power, and he'll be coming for the others soon. He'll be coming for the wand next."

"He can't beat you," Aberforth said.

"He'll be desperate," Albus countered. "He still can't get past the twin core problem, and after what Harry did to him at the Ministry, he won't tolerate failure."

"Where's the third one?" Gellert asked.

"Lost. Neville claims someone stole it earlier in the school term."

"Stupid boy," Aberforth spat.

"You shouldn't have given it away in the first place."

Albus turned to Gellert. "You don't understand. The Hallows… it's like they're drawn to each other. If you think the temptation of the Elder Wand on its own is overwhelming, imagine how it felt having them both for years and having to force myself from using both. That way, at least young Neville was protected from the attempts on his life."

"Only now the cloak is in the open, possibly already on its way to Voldemort," Gellert said. "Do you know what it will do, for someone like him to wield them both at the same time? The power it must bring?"

"No one's ever done it before."

"Then we best hope it stays that way," Aberforth spoke up. "Finding the Horcruxes won't just be enough any more. If he gets his hands on the cloak, he'll be so much more dangerous than last time."

"No, brother. Simply with the resurrection stone, he already is."

Azkaban

1:15 p.m.

The tower was cold. Even as summer was nearing, and the sun shone brightly down upon its dark walls, Barty was almost freezing inside the halls of Azkaban. They were all there, all remaining members of the Pantheon kneeling in front of the Dark Lord's throne. It was their first time meeting since the night of the sieges. The Dark Lord had remained in his quarters, unwilling to meet with anyone, since he returned from the Ministry. Witches and wizards came and went from Azkaban, the remaining Pantheon members showing up twice or thrice a week only to be turned away by the Dark Lord. It was concerning seeing him like this, this attitude was unlike anything the Dark Lord had ever exhibited. Barty didn't know if he was more concerned for himself, or the subject of his ire.

Once everyone arrived, the Dark Lord called Zeus forward for a briefing. It was more routine than anything, even the Dark Lord seemed distracted. He was staring at his hand, twirling a ring on his fingers that Barty hadn't seen until that night at the Ministry.

"Achlys, Nemesis, and Hephaestus were all killed during the sieges. Scrimgeour has been rallying the Aurors ever since, they managed to capture sixty more of our snatchers, raising the total to two hundred. But the rest of the Ministry is still in disarray. The damage to the Muggle world has been fixed, but there were not obliviated Muggles that are starting to pop up all over the country. A few dozen cases, so far, but they'll keep growing. Their attempts to fix the statute were rushed, haphazard, and they'll be drowning in them soon. With Fudge stepping down and the entire international community demanding answers, there is no better time to continue our attack."

"My Lord," Barty spoke as he stood up. "If I may, I don't think this is the right way to go."

"Our enemies are scattered-"

"Our enemies aren't limited to the Ministry of Magic. If what you're saying is true, then the sieges did a lot more damage than previously anticipated. The entire Muggle world is something we are not equipped to fight yet. And believe me, it will be the entire world if we wage our war openly like we just did. We need to find a better way if we actually want to win it."

"You're relying on speculation," Zeus dismissed him.

"I'm relying on our history. A war with the Muggles is the last thing we want, especially with how much they've evolved since our last conflict."

Before Zeus could rebut, they were stopped by a loud hiss from beneath them. The Dark Lord's snake, Nagini, slithered past the both of them, climbing up the Dark Lord's throne before curling itself around his neck. They began hissing - speaking - making these unnerving sounds that instinctively raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Zeus turned to him, and even with their masks, Barty could tell he was feeling exactly what he was.

"Leave us," the Dark Lord finally hissed out. Immediately, as he said this, all the Death Eaters around them stood up and began scampering away. Zeus gave him another glance before he joined the crowd. "Not you, Ares," the Dark Lord said right as he was about to turn around as well. There was something in his voice that put him more on edge. He stayed still, unnaturally still, as everyone else left the room. And when the door shut beside them, it brought with it a draft of wind that almost made his shiver.

"My Lord," Barty prompted, kneeling once again.

"Do you know why I chose the title of Ares for you?"

He nodded. "Because of my skill. Because of the strategies I came up with during our first raids back in the day."

"A superficial response. I expected better from you." The Dark Lord stood up and stared coldly down at him, Nagini curled against his arm. "The reason you earnt the title of Ares, more than any other, is because you understood war. Not like a mindless beast who craves violence senselessly, but like a soldier who understands it's sometimes necessary. Even when that meant the murder of an infant, you understood its reasoning."

You knew! Harry's words screamed in his mind, and Barty could almost see the betrayal written on his face. "I did."

"Explain it, then."

Barty felt his heart stop, and the blood drained from his face. He understood what the Dark Lord wanted from him, and understood why. Perhaps he had been a coward back then, or foolish, or maybe he was being a hypocrite right now because he saw that there were many alternatives. "It doesn't have to be this way."

"We were wrong about Neville Longbottom, weren't we? So what makes Harry Potter so special, is he should be exempt from the same fate Longbottom had earnt."

"He's important to me."

"You were always able to put the needs of our mission over your own."

"I always have." Barty pressed. "Not once have I asked for anything, but I'm asking now. Give me an opportunity, I can deal with the boy. He doesn't need to die."

"He's a threat."

"Not if he joins our cause."

"We're way past that." The Dark Lord said coldly.

"Then I'll come up with something else. A solution to keep him away and alive at the same time. He won't be an issue, I'll make sure of it."

"And if you fail?"

"I won't."

"If you fail?"

Barty gritted his teeth. "Then I'll step aside."

The Dark Lord gripped his wand tightly, his red gaze piercing directly into his soul. There was something there in his eyes, something powerful and dangerous that Barty had never seen there before. If he hadn't known any better, he would have said that the Dark Lord was afraid. "You have the summer to fix this." He finally said.

"Thank you, My Lord," he bowed so far down, his face was nearly touching the ground. "I will not forget this."

"The summer. You have three months to give me a proposal I deem worthy. Once the deadline passes, I'll do as I wish with the boy."

"I understand."

"And, Ares," the Dark Lord called out. "Don't think you'll ever get another reprieve like this again. This is your reward for everything you did for me during my resurrection. I hope it was well spent."

The Purple Chamber

5:40 p.m.

Robert Greengrass pushed the doors to the Purple Chamber open, only to find everyone else already waiting for him. The room was dark, the lights from the torches on the walls and candles on the table dimmer. He faced the glares and scowls and walked ahead to his seat, blatantly aware of the lack that was coming from the far end of the table, where both the Montague and Yaxley seats sat.

"It's done," he said as he pulled back his chair. "The DMLE has finished their Hogwarts investigation and Elijah is finally on the ground. His assets should be distributed to us in the coming weeks."

"They will be split, equally, yes?" Aida Mulciber asked snottily.

"Of course," Evan Rosier drawled. "Would you like a copy of his financial statements for confirmation?"

"No need. I'll do my own research, thank you very much."

"And what if the boy decided to defy protocol?" Henry Avery sneered. "Will there be any issues with the transfer of his assets?"

"We have people in place for those eventualities," Rosier said. "We will all receive what is due."

Everyone still looked unsure, but nobody said anything else on the subject. This was the first time a House from the Knights of Walpurgis had gone extinct. There was no precedent for how they would react in the face of such a thing, and in this table, it was clear that there was no love lost for Elijah Montague. No one would grieve him there, he had lost a lot of the Knights' support in his open war with the Potter boy. Their society had striven when it remained in the shadows, but Elijah in his juvenile naivety nearly brought them to the surface. Their only concern now was ensuring that the wealth that boy built and flaunted ended up in their vaults.

"We are losing out numbers, our influence. With the Montagues gone and Yaxley's betrayal, we're becoming weak," Aida said.

"What are you suggesting?" Robert asked.

"It's not too late to bring new people into the fold."

"That is out of the question," Evan snapped.

"We have always been seven. We chose that number because of how powerful it is, and it worked for us for centuries. There are other families, worthy families, who would be useful assets for us. "

"There's a reason why we didn't include them in our beginning!"

"What will you have us do, then?" Aida challenged. "Wait until we've all nearly perished before you consider bringing in new blood? Given how the Dark Lord is escalating the situation, that may very well happen."

Mister Snyde raised his hand slightly, his fingers were wrinkly and trembling, but it was enough to immediately shut down any arguments from both of them. "There is no need. Not yet."

Aida gritted her teeth, she was almost shaking in anger. But Mister Snyde had spoken, and she wasn't bold enough to talk back and challenge his decision.

"What of the Potter boy?" Robert asked Mister Snyde directly.

"What of him?"

"He's the one who killed Elijah. He killed the younger Montague, too, for that matter. Whatever those boys may have been, their murders are a slight to us that we can no longer tolerate."

"Yes," Evan said coldly. "The boy has to pay. The Dark Lord isn't protecting him any longer, either."

Mister Snyde kept his eyes on Robert, even as Aida and Evan continued agreeing with him and growing louder in their vehemence for his suffering. Eventually, he cleared his throat and silenced the room once again. "Do you know what our purpose is, Robert? Do you understand it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you'd know killing Potter is a stupid move. For centuries, we have kept order here in Britain, because we thrive on it. Because if our world is reduced to madness and anarchy, our influence turns meaningless and our assets worthless. The Dark Lord has made it clear he no longer has any intentions of going about his goals through the political road, he means to burn the country and start anew. To kill Potter now would be to sentence us to that world. What good would that bring to us then?"

"None, sir."

"We'll let him run around as he wishes. Assist him if he really needs it. And when he kills the Dark Lord, then we'll step in and do as we always do."

"And what if he fails?" Evan asked with distaste.

Once again, Mister Snyde didn't turn away from Robert. "We have our people in place. They'll make sure he won't."

Slytherin Fifth-Year Dormitories

11:15 p.m.

Harry had always found the Slytherin dormitories akin to what an underwater graveyard would look like. He would have described them as depressing, devoid of life, almost prison-like. Maybe that's what happened when some of the worst memories of your life took place there. After being kidnapped, possessed, and tortured inside the dormitories, it was hard looking past that and making that place seem like a home. Funnily enough, he did find himself missing the Slytherin Common Room during his time away. It had been nearly a full year for him since he had been staying there steadily, and as far as welcome-back parties went, Draco had done a serviceable job at making it bearable.

The room was lit up more than it had ever been - it was almost too bright. There was music coming from a record player that Blaise had borrowed from his mum, and a bucket full of bottles that Theo and Daphne somehow managed to sneak in. Umbridge's rules made it impossible to do anything in the common room, but it made it easy for Pansy and Daphne to sneak up to their dormitories. Crabbe and Goyle were asleep, Pansy having charmed their bed curtains so that they wouldn't be woken up. This little party was just for the six of them, and Harry wouldn't have had it any other way.

It had been one hour since Draco had shut the door, raised the bottle above his head, and proudly claimed the night to start. It didn't take long after that for him to start passing around shots of Firewhisky to everyone around. Everybody had drunk a little bit more than plenty, even Harry permitted himself a few glasses, despite being in his twelfth time of promising himself he would give up drinking. He was comforted by the fact that he wasn't doing so out of a need to push down something he didn't want to think about and just wanted to fully enjoy the moment here. He'd spent months in that other life, missing everybody in this room. It was something that surprised even himself, but he couldn't pretend he didn't. There was still a lot of work to be done, especially with Pansy rallying him and Theo to study for their OWLs, but that would come tomorrow.

"Alright, alright," Draco slurred as he clinked two bottles against each other to gain everyone's attention. "Come along. Drink on. You all still look way too sober to me."

"You've gone mad," Daphne proclaimed.

"It's all the booze in his brain," Blaise laughed.

"We are celebrating here," he pressed on. "We're finally all out of the infirmary. The Aurors have finally fucked off. We have officially killed two Montagues and gotten away with both!"

"A bit dark for you, though, isn't it?" Harry asked amusedly.

"Oi, that bastard Elijah wanted to kill us, alright? That's what I call self-defence here."

Even Theo laughed at that. Though Harry appreciated having a friend who hadn't turned out as jaded as him, it was good to know that there was still a dark side somewhere inside there.

"What are you complaining about? You didn't get stabbed!"

"But I could have!" Draco launched himself off the bed and went over to Daphne. "Come on, Daph, drink up!"

"Call me Daph again, and I'll shove that bottle up your arse."

"Alright, alright… Pansy, come on!" He waved the bottle at her face. "You've barely had more than a few sips."

She turned to Harry and Theo before shrugging. "If it's more than a sip, I'll sic Potter on you, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Hey," Blaise was suddenly on his bed, offering him a filled glass. "Don't worry, it's just butterbeer."

"Cheers," Harry said as he grabbed it and took a swig.

"Yeah…" It was weird seeing Blaise this nervous, it was almost like seeing a confused Granger or a rational Weasley. "Listen, I just wanted to thank you. You didn't have to… you know," he motioned towards his back. "But I appreciate it."

"Thank Aurora then, not me," Harry said with a glance at his phoenix.

"I'm pretty sure that bird wouldn't have done anything you didn't want it to."

"I don't know," he smiled. "She seems to have a mind of her own sometimes."

Blaise nodded awkwardly and right then, Draco appeared and nearly hit Harry in the face with the bottle. "Open up, Potter." He barely had a chance to look up before the alcohol fell against his face and left him coughing. Draco repeated the same thing with Blaise and then with Theo, who was on the bed beside them, before he himself drank from the bottle.

"I think it's fair to say that we are the best Slytherins in this bloody castle," he announced. "We need a name. Like, uh… like the Silver Sect. Or the Sensational Six. Ohhh! The Montague Murderers."

"I don't think Scrimgeour would like that," Pansy said.

"We could make T-Shits!" Harry smiled.

The party went on for a while, with everyone drinking and goofing around, he was able to escape to the loo completely unnoticed. It felt weird, to have a party like this without Ron or Dean or Seamus after spending an entire summer with the Gryffindors doing stuff like this. He missed them, somewhat. Not as strongly as he had missed the Slytherins while he was there, but enough to take a sip of his drink and wonder what happened to them. It was weird how those months had affected him, even a few days ago when he had met Ron at St Mungo's, he found himself unable to muster the same anger for him - or even Hermione for that matter. In another life, maybe they would have been what the Slytherins were now to him. He wouldn't change things, but it was nice knowing his other self wasn't alone.

And who knows? With what he was planning for the summer, something told him he'd be seeing more of the Gryffindors in the days to come

As he was returning to the dormitory, Harry found Daphne already waiting for him there. She was standing on the staircase, back leaning against the wall, as her eyes looked him up and down.

"We haven't had a moment alone in a while," she said, almost innocently.

"No, we haven't," he agreed, getting closer to her. "I have wanted to talk to you about something, actually."

She bit her lips and looked up at him. "About what?"

"Montague," the word took the wind out of her sails. "I heard you were the last one with him before he died."

"Bled out. There was nothing I could do."

"He wouldn't have bled out. Not as quickly as you say. Trust me, I've tried before."

"Harry-"

"I needed him alive, Daphne," he said dangerously, grabbing her arm.

"And I needed him dead." She shook the bangs out of her eyes. "I did what I had to, he wasn't going to say anything to you either way."

"I don't know, I can be very persuasive."

"If he lived and told my uncle I helped you, I would have been dead. I'm not going to apologise for doing exactly what you would have done."

He stared at her for a moment, failing to find any deception behind her eyes. He tightened his grip on her arm and leaned forward. "If I were you, I'd stop pressing my luck with me. I'm not always going to be in such a forgiving mood."

"Oh, I don't know. I can be very persuasive." She gave him a cocky smile before pulling herself out of her grip and returning to the dormitory. She joined Draco and Blaise on the other end of the room, snatching the bottle out of Blaise's hand and taking another sip for herself.

"Uh-oh," Theo said, sitting on his bed with Pansy curled up close to him.

"Another round with Greengrass, lover boy?" Pansy smirked.

"Just getting some answers on why she killed Montague."

"What did she say?" Theo asked seriously.

"Something about her uncle."

"Well, her family is part of the Knights, just as Montague was," Pansy said. "It's no wonder she was pressured to act against us."

"I know. The only reason I'm giving her a pass for this is because she stood with us instead of Elijah."

"The only reason?" Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, subtly nodding towards the other side of the room. Harry saw Daphne staring back at them.

"Yes," Harry said. "The only reason."

"With Voldemort officially back, the war's going to start again," Theo said. "Do you think it'll happen again, one of us being pressured to go against the others."

"All your parents are Death Eaters, Knights of Walpurgis, or whatever other bullshit secret societies Britain has," Harry shrugged. "I think it's a given we won't all be on the same side all the time."

Theo looked solemn, almost sad, while Pansy simply looked like it was a fact she had accepted long ago. None of them were looking forward to it. Regardless of their bickering and in-fights, they had been fairly united over the past five years. Things were about to change, they'd get more interesting, in Harry's opinion, but after this term ended, he didn't think they'd be fully the same ever again.

"I think you give us too little credit. We've made it this far."

"That we have, Theo," smiled Harry. "Let's just try to make it last, yeah."

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

We're in the middle of the final arc of the book, so be excited! By the time I'm posting this, I'm THIRTEEN chapters ahead, and I am in the middle of the second arc of Book 2 of the Pray For The Wicked Saga! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

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